As many of you may have heard, I've gone and moved my entire life once again. This time it's a sure thing and it's certainly a step in the right direction, though it happens to have been a step southward. I'm now living in what many people consider the only city in Nevada. While it is the largest, it is very clearly not the only city. It's also not the capital city. Furthermore, it is almost exactly 7.5 hours driving from Reno to Las Vegas (yes, further than you thought, isn't it?) and Reno is not the capital city either.
So, in keeping with observing my surroundings, I thought I would add a few things in here to let you know just how different Northern and Southern Nevada are. Many people think 'it's the same state, must be similar, anyway' but they are ... well, horribly and tragically wrong. There's a reason Reno has the name "biggest little city in the world" and that it's held on to that title for so long. It's homey. It feels like a big city all of a sudden got friendly. Las Vegas is not that way. I envision Vegas as the ignored love-child of New York (to be specific, Broadway) and Los Angeles; glitz, glamor, homeless people and the ungodly hot desert to make everyone super-awesome-agitated. People move here to make it big as a model, actor or performer and end up serving dinner at Denny's at 3am (thus, the Los Angeles part), or are strictly here for business, have things to do, peoples' dreams to quash and babies to toss into the street during rush hour (New York)... though I can't say that it's like that all the way around, there are certainly instances that make me think that perhaps if it weren't so darned hot, people might relax a little bit.
Which brings me to my next point: The desert. Reno is not the desert. It's a "high desert" or "sierra" climate. Vegas is a desert, no question about it. For those of you who think that it can't possibly be that different, think of it this way. Northern Nevada is basically Northern California: pine trees, lakes, rivers, snow, etc. . . Southern Nevada is where Death Valley resides: Cacti, rattle snakes, scorpions and sand. Lots and lots of sand.
I have recently become acutely aware of the vast differences in the geography and climate between Northern and Southern Nevada and the sometimes blissful-seeming verdant green of Michigan. I'm convinced there is no such thing as the mythical "cool desert breeze." Just like a unicorn, the easter bunny and world peace, it just does not exist. The winds that blow here are far harsher than the winds of change. Don't get me wrong, I love the desert (for the most part) and I'm extremely happy to have the chance to live somewhere that I don't have to even think about shoveling snow in the winter time.
These winds, like the winds of my childhood home, sting and burn but unlike the chilly Midwestern winter winds, these burn in a peculiar and much more lasting fashion. The winds here can average up to 80 miles an hour, which is basically unheard of back in Michigan outside of tornadoes. Not only do the winds here carry the speed that is a little astonishing (thanks to being in a valley) but they also happen to often carry the fine gritty sand that I'm convinced, can sandblast a Panzer. Too long out in the wind such as this and you'll end up "wind burned." I never realized that there was such a thing before moving here. Not even in Reno, as it does get generally windy there, but it very rarely carries sand with it unless you happen to be near the beach.
Wind burn is a special sort of pain. It's not like a sun burn but it's similar enough to draw a line from A to B. Basically, the tenderness of the skin, the reddish tint to the flesh and the general hatred of life is the same. There are, however; a few important distinctions. A). Although you are attempting to keep the area clean and moisturized, there is ALWAYS at least a shoe-full of grit still on your skin, so that when you attempt to cleanse or moisturize the skin, you end up aggravating it worse. Always. B). Worse than a sun burn in most cases, is the appearance of the flesh after a nice sand-blasting. Generally, you look as though you're a leper. Because of the lovely red color of the burn, the scabs over-top are an excellent blood-red color as well which generally makes you look as though you've crawled out of the very last circle of hell to come up topside and say "hey, what's up?"
I have begun to adapt to the harsher climate by drinking more water, staying away from the seemingly ever present day-star and generally becoming even more of an indoor pet than before. It is key to realize that you are in a desert, and that you need to drink water. I am not a fan of water in general, and specifically, the taste of the water that happens out here. It's either in a plastic water bottle, which inevitably makes it taste like plastic, or it's sink-water, which means it's Vegas water, which means there's a good chance it's infected with some sort of ungodly disease. Neither of these options are super appealing to me, but I've taken to drinking the bottled water, for fear of utter and total dehydration and death. Mostly death. I very distinctly remember Kobold's visit to Michigan and his comment that he was scared. He had to use the bathroom ten times more often than he did back home. I laughed then, now I know the truth. If I were to drink liquids at the same rate back in Michigan as I do here, I would explode/float away/continuously be in the bathroom. While this may seem funny to you, think back to when you were young and healthy and hardly ever had to pee... then remember when you got pregnant/old/sick.... yeah. Suck.
In summation: Desert living is never as glamorous as you think it might be. Sand and sun are generally considered the enemy, the out-of-doors is best avoided at all costs, and the people here are just as sick of the heat as you are, but they're too angry, poor or tired to move.
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